


Just an Occupational Hazard

by needles



Series: Bokuaka Detective drabbles [38]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needles/pseuds/needles
Summary: If there's one thing Bokuto likes it's pudding and right now he has the perfect excuse to indulge, Akaashi is happy to indulge him though he'd much prefer it wasn't under these circumstances.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Bokuaka Detective drabbles [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116251
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Just an Occupational Hazard

He scraped out the last trace of pudding as he listened to Keiji. “They really should make these pots bigger.”

“Would you like some more Bokuto san, I could make some and bring it in?”

“That would be great Akaashi, just promise me, no bones in it ok?”

He nodded. “Got it, no bones.”

“So what was it you were just saying?”

Keiji picked up the doctor’s notes again. “The knife, although short, penetrated your skin with considerable force, due to the combination of forward motion from both your assailant and you yourself. Fortunately, it penetrated an interstice between the fourth and fifth costae on the left side. The damage is largely confined to the dermis and intercostal tissues; had the blade not struck at the interstice however the force behind it would undoubtedly have shattered your rib which could have resulted in a punctured lung.”

“I think you lost me after penetration Akaashi,” he grinned.

Keiji rolled his eyes. “The knife went into the space between your ribs Bokuto san and no serious damage was done, no ribs were broken,” he translated. “You will be fine in a few days, just sore.”

“Lucky again then, Akaashi.” Bokuto patted the dressing over his wound.

“I would hardly call it lucky Bokuto san.” 

He replaced the notes and paced up and down at the end of the bed. Bokuto watched him, he knew him well enough to know when to allow his partner to marshal his thoughts. One thing was for sure, Bokuto was in for a lecture. Probably on how Keiji could have handled the nutso himself if he’d let him. Well he could forget that idea; he would never let Keiji face a whacko like that on his own, no matter how many black belts he had, it just wouldn’t happen.

“I have been thinking Bokuto san; it’s nothing to do with luck and everything to do with me. Ever since our partnership began you have suffered injury after injury. You have been shot, beaten up, blown up, kidnapped, all more than once; and now stabbed because you threw yourself at Rawlings when he was running at me with that knife. Every time, every time, Bokuto san, it’s because of your work with me. I am a danger to you and I have no right to insist on accompanying you into the field when all I keep doing is putting you in a hospital bed. We have to stop this before that bed becomes a slab.” He finally stopped and looked at him, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Come here.”

Keiji shook his head.

“Akaashi, I want to show you something, please,” he pleaded gently.

Reluctantly Keiji moved closer as if he dared not for fear of causing more damage.

Bokuto held up his right arm and pointed to a silvery white scar on the inside of his bicep, faded now. “See this?”

Keiji nodded.

Bokuto turned slightly and carefully towards him and indicated a small round scar just below his right ribcage. “And this?”

Another nod.

Keiji tensed as Bokuto pulled down the sheet and pulled up the leg of his boxers, and he saw the jagged scar which adorned his partner's left iliac. His fingers stretched out and before either of them realised it he traced the line of the scar.

Bokuto swallowed, trying to control the jolt of electricity he felt run through him at Keiji’s touch and pulled the sheet back quickly; much closer and Keiji would notice his other reaction. Keiji snatched his fingers away and a flush flooded his cheeks.

“And that’s just the scars Akaashi, the bruises and smaller cuts have long gone. I got all of those on the job before we were partners. You don’t put me in danger Akaashi, the job does. Killers don’t want to be caught; they fight back; it goes with the territory. There aren’t many cops who retire without a good few of those, not good cops anyway.”

“And you’re the best.” Keiji gave him a wan smile.

Bokuto took his hand and squeezed. “No Keiji WE are the best, both of us, we’re a team, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides who would bring me pudding?” He grinned and was relieved to see Keiji grin back. He patted the bed alongside him, tugged his hand, and Keiji sat down facing him.

“You know Rawlings is in here too Bokuto san, but he’s worse than you.”

“Akaashi you didn’t put him in the morgue!”

“No just ICU.”

“What! Just how many of his bones did you break?”

“Only seven. After all he tried to kill you. But that’s not what put him in ICU; he was stabbed in the chest.”

“Oh Akaashi, am I going to have to get you off an attempted murder charge?”

“Of course not! It’s not my fault he fell on his other knife.” 

Bokuto sighed, that would be another mountain of paperwork to fill in. “Akaashi what was that word you used to describe where the knife went?”

“Interstice, a space between two objects.”

“Just bones?”

“No, any two objects.”

“Or people?”

“I suppose so.” Keiji agreed.

“Interstice.” Bokuto tried the word for size and nodded. “I like your squinty words Akaashi. Words like adduction.” He pulled Keiji close to his chest.

“Bokuto san, what are you doing?” Keiji asked, startled.

“That interstice was far too wide, in some places it still is.”

Keiji moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Where? Show me?” he breathed.

“Right here,” Bokuto growled as he took Keiji’s lower lip in his and teased it with his tongue until Keiji gave a low moan and let him in. Bokuto’s free hand began to roam under the edge of Keiji’s shirt, his long fingers burning their imprint onto his skin. He had waited so long for this, but he had to wait a little longer. Keiji pulled away. Bokuto looked at him, fear evident in his eyes, afraid that he had gone too far.

Keiji took his face in his hands and looked him straight in the eye to ensure he left him in no doubt. “I want to Bokuto san, but not here; not now in the hospital; not when you’re hurt.” He pressed a soft quick kiss on his lips.

Bokuto nodded, Keiji was right, he’d dreamed of this but not in a hospital bed. “I have to tell you Akaashi, I...”

Keiji kissed him again. “You just did, and I love you too Bokuto san, and when I get you home I intend to show you, repeatedly.” With that he slipped off the bed and picked up his bag. “Sweet dreams Bokuto san, I’ll see you in the morning.” He headed for the door.

“Don’t forget my pudding!” Bokuto called plaintively.

Keiji laughed.

As he closed the door Bokuto groaned and peeked under the sheet. Didn’t Keiji realise what a promise like that would do to him? He wondered if the nurses would allow him to take a shower, extra cold. Otherwise it would be a long hard night.


End file.
